


The Man Who Just Wont Die

by EggFriedReus



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Buried Alive, F/M, No ones ever truly gone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggFriedReus/pseuds/EggFriedReus
Summary: It's one in whatever the largest number is that he's alive. Even Strange with his special rock wouldn't of been able to predict his return. Or maybe he had...ORTony's alive. He's been buried alive. What the fuck happens after.





	The Man Who Just Wont Die

He screamed until he felt raw, he moved and fought against the walls until he was weak. His fingers' ends were bloody and bruised from their continuous clawing and scratching away at the surface of the coffin. His first thought was Peter. Cheesy he knew, but the Kid had been right there in his sight when he 'died'. Tony's body and mind refused to die. He couldn't rest. 

At this point, maybe twenty minutes into this now-living nightmare - he was just trying to calm himself. All he knew, was that he was buried. Somewhere. Above all of him could be a ton and a half of dirt for all he could tell. However, when he lay still enough, still enough for anyone to think he may be dead this time, he could hear something. It was _a _something. Not a singular sound, not the scratching of a maggot eating away at wood... But a cacophony, an orchestra of sounds. There was car beeps, shouts, the rumble of distant chatter. 

Tony had been buried alive in the middle of a city. If he could hear them, how could they have not heard his screams? That worried him. Tony was an iron man - not much scared him anymore. In fact, nothing did now - not after beating his biggest nightmare. Breathe. But here and now. This was something else. How long could you last in a coffin? He wasn't sure he even wanted to know. The time must be short. How long had he been breathing? If it had been from when he woke, then he must have a few hours at least. Breathe. He repeated it to himself. The faster his breaths came and went, the more oxygen he used, the chance of him dying again increased. Take it from Tony, he didn't want to die again.

Tony commanded his knee to plough into the coffin. Nothing happened. Only now his knee hurt. He opened his eyes to try and take his mind off of the sudden pain, but there was no difference. It was pointless. Still deathly blackness. But still, he had no choice. His knee dug its self into the coffin's lid with even more force, a slither of light. 

He coughed. He spluttered. In the air, there was now dust and dirt. But it was grounding. He could see something. Artificial or natural light, he couldn't tell... But he was close to something else. Close to other people. Close to freedom. 

Using what little will power he could currently muster, he brought up his right hand. The sheer effort of moving the eternally damaged limb made his heaving of air deepen. Intending to punch the coffin, it came up and placed its self against the top. That's when he realised something for the first time. 

The gauntlet was still on his arm. That same gauntlet that had snapped Thanos out of existence. It was latched around his fingers - almost welded to the little amount of his actual arm he could see. His vocal cords fought for success. To whoop, to celebrate, to call out. But if the gauntlet was there- It couldn't be. No chance. She would be gone. "F- Fr-" He coughed and wheezed once more. "Friday?" He croaked out on the third try. Hoarse and rough were the only ways to describe his throat still, although Tony would've accepted synonyms at the time. A whir. A spark. A small flame appeared now in the distant corner of the wooden coffin. "Shit." He burst, although immediately regretting it. It hurt himself more. 

Fighting all he could against the small confines, he managed to squash the developing flame. "Friday?" Another whir. Something was happening. "Don't let me down now, girl. You're my favourite AI - always have been!" The arc reactor burst to life. He was pleading with it. The light burned his eyes. But he could see. He was still dressed in what he remembered wearing on that infamous time heist. This was what it had come to. How low he wa- 

"Mr Stark?" Tony froze. God no. That hurt more than he could bear. He thought it was Peter. Those two words. It had been Friday, surprised herself. 'Oh My God' It had worked. All his planning, the extra measures... This is where it got him. Friday was working. Tony thanked whatever being above wanted him to win. He couldn't prepare his AI for this it seemed. "Contacting Mrs Potts-Stark." He was gunna get outta here. Friday was working! Somehow! Something above this blue little marble wanted him to live. 'Yes.' Was his only thought. Tony was never going to die unless he wanted to. 

"Friday? What are you- He's dead Friday. I watched him die, we were there. No. That's- Oh my- Shit! Shit! What the fuck! James Rhodes, Morgan Stark! Ge- Tony's alive! Friday? This is all correct? Right now? Live?"

This was torture. He could hear her. He could hear his wife. He heard the name of his daughter. He was even calling out. Trying to get their attention. He could even hear Friday talking to Pep, bringing up his current vitals. His ears gave in when Rhodey could be heard. They couldn't take anymore. He fought with himself. It was all too much. He had to close his eyes. Think it through. But he couldn't sleep! No matter what! If he slept, there was no telling if he awoke. He had to stay strong for Pepper, for Rhodey, for Morgan, For Peter. Hell, even for himself. 

Anthony Stark. The man who wouldn't die.


End file.
